


After Midnight

by Karasuno Volleygays (ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Banter, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Hook-Up, Hot Tub, Lots of nudity, M/M, Nudity, Training Camp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-19 22:13:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4762955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor/pseuds/Karasuno%20Volleygays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Yahaba figures out that being the last one to the baths isn't necessarily a bad thing. Especially the company.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the 30 Day NSFW Challenge: Day 5 - Blow Jobs. The pairing was requested by medeadea.

Yahaba groans as the just-right bath water soothes away the ache in his overwrought limbs. His muscles have been pushed to the limit these past couple of days, and training camp still has four more days to go.

But he’s the captain, and his team will show weakness the moment he does.

So Yahaba confines his bellyaching to these precious moments when he is alone, as the rest of the squad has probably passed out from exhaustion by now. After the first month of the new year, he’s tempted to text Oikawa-san and ask him how the hell he managed to lead this bunch of idiots, be the main setter, and do a bunch of extra practice on top of it.

His peace is interrupted, however, by the sound of the door to the bathhouse creaking open. He looks over and sees that it’s Karasuno’s captain. This in itself isn’t an unusual occurrence, as Aobajousai is sharing the training facility with three other area teams making the most of Golden Week.

“Mind if I join you, Yahaba-san?”

Shrugging, Yahaba gestures towards the tub. “Suit yourself.” Politely, he averts his eyes while Ennoshita stows his towel and doesn’t look at the other boy until he’s sure his fellow captain is not visible from the neck down.

It’s a fairly new habit, as he hasn’t particularly cared about nudity in the past, but Iwaizumi-san had patiently informed him during the previous year that it makes other people uncomfortable. Ennoshita’s slight smile tells him that the gesture is likely appreciated in this case, as well.

“Are your guys doing well this year?” Ennoshita asks before letting out a heavy yawn. But when Yahaba raises a questioning brow, Ennoshita turns red. “Sorry, I don’t want you to think I’m scouting you or anything. I’m off the clock, so to speak. Just trying to make conversation.”

Yahaba snorts. “You’re never off the clock. These assholes will haunt you wherever you go.”

Ennoshita looks at him for a long time, his face all but expressionless and the lack of reaction is almost making Yahaba uncomfortable. He starts, however, when Ennoshita smiles and waves a hand. “‘These’ assholes, or ‘that’ asshole?”

“Excuse me?” Yahaba doesn’t even pretend to know what Ennoshita is talking about.

“Your vice,” Ennoshita explains. “You two are so different, he probably keeps you on your toes. Or on edge.” He shrugs. “Sometimes, it’s hard to tell the difference.”

Comprehension dawns, and Yahaba hums in agreement. “Monk cut guy working your nerves?”

Sighing heavily, Ennoshita shakes his head. “The first years are almost afraid of him because he’s so loud, but he’s also the best one to motivate certain guys. And he doesn’t do subtle.”

With a grunt, Yahaba nods. “Kyoutani thinks being vice-captain is annoying. He should walk a mile in our shoes.”

“If he’s anything like Tanaka, he’ll tell our shoes to shut up and watch their senpai show them how it’s done.”

“All before failing spectacularly.”

Yahaba meets Ennoshita’s gaze, and they both burst into laughter.

More at ease with the unexpected company that he thought he would be, Yahaba slouches back and allows the water to do its work as they bathe in a comfortable silence.

When Yahaba feels himself drifting off to sleep sitting up, he decides it’s time to call it a night. With more effort than it should take for someone his age, he hoists himself out of the water and wearily trudges over to his towel.

He glances back at Ennoshita, who is watching him with a curious expression. Yahaba supposes it would make him uncomfortable if he were that sort of person, but instead he nods. “You’re all right, Karasuno.”

Ennoshita gives him a lazy smile. “You’re not so bad yourself, Seijou.”

Yahaba leaves the bathhouse thinking that he doesn’t mind his quiet time being interrupted nearly as much as he thought he would.

 

* * *

 

The next night, it’s almost midnight before Yahaba is able to drape his tired arms over the edge of the bath. He can honestly say he’s never been more tired in his life. Up since seven to make sure everyone else got up, spending meal breaks on ‘you had better all be eating enough’ duty, busting his ass in general during drills, and spending the past four hours working one on one with a first-year setter who is not doing well enough to make the bench, let alone lead the team when Yahaba retires.

“Rough night?”

Yahaba is surprised to hear Ennoshita’s voice, but he can’t even think about jumping out of his skin. He’s far too tired for that. Glancing around, he sees Ennoshita sitting at one of the sinks, soaping his hair.

“Why the hell are you even awake?” Yahaba complains. “It’s past midnight, and I know you have to get up at fuck o’clock tomorrow, too.”

Ennoshita chuckles, but the sound comes out as more of a whimper. “I just spent the last two hours lecturing one of my players about appropriate behavior. I caught him and a guy from another team in a, um, compromising situation.”

Yahaba can’t even find it in himself to be surprised. “Well, when you shove a bunch of hormonal teenage boys in a building with other hormonal teenage boys, and none of them do anything else with themselves but sports, it’s bound to happen.”

“Oh?” Yahaba looks up in time to see Ennoshita turn around in his stool with something scarily resembling a smirk on his face. “Any experience in that area, then?”

This is around the time when Yahaba’s exhausted brain registers that Ennoshita isn’t wearing a towel, and there is nothing left to the imagination due to his fellow captain’s stance. His mouth feels very, very dry as he openly stares.

“Not at all,” he croaks.

With a harrumph, Ennoshita gets up and heads to the benches, where Yahaba can finally see the shower caddy and sports bag underneath. “A shame, Yahaba-san. You should give your all for volleyball, of course, but you shouldn’t give up on everything because of it. How well did that work out for your last captain?”

Stunned, Yahaba’s mouth hangs open as he stutters, “O-Oikawa-san?” He considers the implications of what Ennoshita has implied. “He had a lot of girlfriends, but —” Then he recalls how every one of those relationships had turned out. “In the end, only Iwaizumi-san was there. They were practically marr — oh, shit.”

“I figured as much.” Instead of dressing, Ennoshita comes over and sits on the smooth porcelain edge of the bath. “My senpais were not nearly as discreet as they thought they were.” He shrugs. “Or maybe I was looking at them too hard trying to figure out how I was supposed to take over from there. I don’t know.”

An image pops up in Yahaba’s head, and he can’t stop the laugh that bubbles from his chest. He laughs until he starts coughing and tears are streaming from his eyes. “Th-that is g-gold.”

Ennoshita tilts his head to the side. “Care to share?”

Catching his breath, Yahaba brushes away his tears of mirth and shakes his head. “I was just thinking about Datekou. Futakuchi and that Lurch guy.”

“Aone’s a good guy,” Ennoshita says, and Yahaba can’t tell if he’s joking. “Futakuchi’s the freak.”

Raising a brow, Yahaba asks, “And how would you know?”

The resulting smile gives Yahaba the chills. “They are in the room next to ours, you know. And Futakuchi _is_ a fellow captain.”

Eyes wide, Yahaba’s jaw opens and closes until he can stutter out, “You . . . and him? Really?”

Ennoshita doesn’t seem bothered by the question. “Just once. He’s into stuff that I’m not, but I don’t regret it, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I can’t believe this.” Yahaba stares at the ceiling and blinks. “Is every volleyball captain in Miyagi a flaming homo?”

“I don’t think so,” Ennoshita replies. “I think Ushiwaka was more attracted to volleyball than people.”

Yahaba glares. “That’s not very reassuring.”

“I wasn’t aware you wanted to be reassured.”

Their gazes meet, and there is a sparkle of mirth in Ennoshita’s eyes that makes Yahaba feel like a complete moron. “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

With a wry smile, Ennoshita huffs. “I didn’t think it would take you so long to catch on, to be honest.”

“I didn’t peg you for the liar type,” Yahaba retorts, hugging his hands to his chest, feeling more exposed than he cares to admit. Not to mention stupid. “Or an exhibitionist,” he adds with a pointed glare at Ennoshita’s nudity.

Ennoshita has the good grace to blush. “And you have no idea how embarrassed I am that I went that far for a joke.”

“I’ve got a pretty good idea,” Yahaba grumbles to himself as he pulls his knees to his chest and stares at his thighs until he hears Ennoshita leave.

 

* * *

 

It’s the last night at the camp, and Yahaba hasn’t seen Ennoshita since their bizarre encounter the previous time. That has not, however, kept him from thinking about Karasuno’s captain or the remnants of the implications set by the elaborate joke.

Is Ennoshita actually into guys, or was that part of the prank?

Yahaba hates that he dwells on it so much, but every night, as he slips into the baths after making sure his team is penned in for the evening, he listens to the sound of the water churning and wonders if there is any truth to it at all. However, the more he considers it, the less he can rule out the prospect that there had been something going on between his own ex-captain and vice. It’s hard not to lend credence to the idea that all the captains in the prefecture messed around.

“Oh, now that’s just fucking ridiculous,” Yahaba grumbles just before the door creaks open.

“Do you want me to leave you alone, then?”

It’s not even a surprise to hear Ennoshita’s voice anymore. His overactive imagination has replayed the guy’s voice over and over enough in the past few days that his real life appearance, the subject of so many of his recent thoughts, barely fazes him. “Do whatever you want.”

This time, Yahaba doesn’t bother averting his eyes when Ennoshita gets into the tub. It isn’t anything he hasn’t already seen. Thought about.

Damn, he really should have looked away.

Their gazes meet through the faint haze of steam, and Yahaba finds it just a little bit harder to breathe. His extremities are very aware of the rapid beat of his heart, and it’s a horrifying moment too late when he realizes that the rest of his body is responding in kind.

“Sorry I lied to you,” Ennoshita says, either ignorant of Yahaba’s current state of semi-arousal or making a point of not bringing it up. “My friends tell me my sense of humor is a little dark, and I usually listen to them.”

“It’s fine,” Yahaba grinds out through gritting teeth. “You probably aren’t wrong about Oikawa-san and Iwaizumi-san, anyway. The more I think about it, the more sense it makes.”

Ennoshita stills. “How much have you thought about it?”

Yahaba isn’t stupid. He is aware that there are an elaborate set of hidden signals guys who are into guys give off to work out whether someone is a potential partner. He also knows he’s getting one of those signals right now, that Ennoshita is basically asking him if they’re ‘compatible.’

It is much easier to say than he would think. “Keeps me up at night,” Yahaba answers before darting out his tongue to moisten his aggressively dry lips. He sees Ennoshita gulp, and before he knows what makes him lose his mind so handily, Yahaba lunges across the meter or so of hot water between them and kisses Ennoshita with a growl.

He sees Ennoshita’s eyes fly open in surprise, shortly followed by hands gripping Yahaba’s ass to fit them together even closer. Yahaba’s kissed-and-maybe-a-little-more with a few girls before, both because he’s had a fair few confessions and because it’s expected of him as the captain of the volleyball team and the position’s resulting stardom at Aobajousai. However, there is something new and intoxicating about the feeling of a hard, tight body grinding against him rather than soft, round curves.

Yahaba likes it. In fact, he thinks he likes it a lot.

Ennoshita tears away first, and he meets Yahaba’s gaze, his mouth hanging slightly open. “You’re really good at that,” he gasps. “I don’t know what I expected, since you’re amazing at everything else, but —”

Placing a finger over Ennoshita’s babbling lips, Yahaba fixes the breathless boy whose erection is pressing against his ass with wry smile and a shake of his head. “I shouldn’t have done that without asking, but I hope you liked it.”

At Ennoshita’s almost trance-like nod, Yahaba slips his finger down the other boy’s chin, down his chest, until he hits the sparse trail of hair that is sending shockwaves through Yahaba’s cock as it rubs against it. “Can I keep going?”

“God yes,” Ennoshita pleads into the curve of Yahaba’s shoulder.

Vision blurring with the power of his desire, Yahaba is almost shaking with the need to make Ennoshita feel the same. With something vaguely resembling a roar, he hefts Ennoshita by the bottom onto the ledge of the bath.

His face mere inches from Ennoshita’s own arousal, Yahaba smirks as he takes Ennoshita into his mouth. Throwing his head back, Ennoshita moans loudly, and the only thing that keeps him from falling backwards is the strong grip Yahaba has on his hips.

There is no feeling like the rush of power that Yahaba has as he sees Ennoshita undone by his ministrations. He is not skillful by any means, as he can safely say he’s never had a dick in his mouth, but Yahaba’s every nerve burns until it almost hurts just from the filthy sounds coming from Ennoshita’s mouth.

Ennoshita thrusts his fingers into Yahaba’s silver-blond hair, pulling roughly on the strands as the latter coaxes out more wonderful noises from the former. Now that Ennoshita is hanging on for dear life, Yahaba’s hand is free to pump the neglected base of Ennoshita’s cock. Words that make even Yahaba blush spill from Ennoshita’s mouth as freely as the precome leaking down his own throat, and both of them are delicious.

Desperate for release of his own, Yahaba fists his other hand around his own length and wildly thrusts into it as he fights to take more and more of Ennoshita into his mouth.

A hot burst of come vaults into his throat, and Yahaba lolls his head back to let it slide down. Panting hard, the movements of his left hand become frantic and hard enough to hurt.

Ennoshita must have noticed his predicament. The other boy slides into the water and takes over as his mouth descends on Yahaba’s. Ennoshita has a good grip and, soon, Yahaba comes with a shout.

Exhausted both from their respective ass-busting days and pure satiation, they slump into each other, with Yahaba’s lips brushing the soft skin of Ennoshita’s cheek. “Fuck,” he murmurs as the heartbeat against his own chest slowly but surely slows its frenetic cadence.

There is a groan in response, and Yahaba contemplates forbidding Ennoshita to make such noises unless he intends to go another round.

They stay this way until Yahaba is sure every inch of his skin is irreparably water-logged and he’s beginning to fall asleep sitting up. When he glances at Ennoshita’s chin resting on his shoulder, he sees that that idea has already been taken.

Softly wheezing with a faint trickle of drool running down his chin, Yahaba’s heart stutters at the sight. He finds precious few things to be ‘cute,’ limiting the phrase to baby animals and little kids in cosplay, but this, Yahaba thinks, is dangerously close to adding itself to the list.

“Ennoshita,” he says quietly, hoping to stir the other boy so they can both get dressed and go back to their futons. When there is not much but a murmur in response, Yahaba repeats himself, a little louder each time.

Finally, when there is no response, he grips Ennoshita tightly and stands them both up straight with one powerful push.

Their bodies slick from water and a little bit more, Ennoshita starts back into consciousness just in time to slide down Yahaba’s front and roughly onto his bottom. Ennoshita blinks up at him as he processes where he is and, more urgently, what is a hair’s breadth away from his face. He looks at Yahaba’s spent cock and licks his lips.

Chuckling, Yahaba says, “Maybe later, Karasuno. We should get back before the coaches decide to check in on the campers and find us missing.”

He chooses to think he only imagines the brief flash of disappointment on Ennoshita’s face before Yahaba offers him a hand to help him to his feet. But Yahaba doesn’t bother brushing off the soft kiss offered him before Ennoshita quickly toweled off and left him standing in the bath.

Yahaba almost leaves without a backward glance after getting dressed, but he is glad he doesn’t when he looks over to the sink next to where Ennoshita had been and sees a phone number written in the steam on the mirror above it. With a smug smile, Yahaba takes the little notebook/mini-pen combo he always has in his trouser pocket (hey, he can’t control when and where he has a decent idea for a play) and jots it down.

On the bus ride back to the school the next day, Yahaba contemplates sending a text to his newest contact when he hears the whispers from his teammates.

“Did you hear?” Kindaichi whispers (not really; the kid doesn’t have that kind of volume control, honestly) to Kunimi in the seat behind Yahaba. “All the coaches got a long lecture from the owner of the building about them not controlling their players because there was, um, _stuff_ in the baths.”

Kunimi snorts, which covers the sound of Yahaba choking on his own air. “That’s gross, Kindaichi. Who would you even tell me that? Now I want to burn my skin off.”

“I know, right?” Kindaichi agrees.

Yahaba makes a point of staying very quiet, as he doesn’t want to wake Watari, who is sound asleep against the window. However, when he chances to peek around and see if anyone else is talking about the polluted bath, Yahaba finds Kyoutani looking at him strangely.

There is a moment of panic before he mentally chides himself for his paranoia. Kyoutani is looking at him strangely because Kyoutani is just strange. No more, no less.

When they’re off the bus and trekking home with their bags, Yahaba is surprised when another duffel bumps into his own. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

For a few seconds, Yahaba contemplates denying the accusation, but if he’s learned anything about his prickly teammate and now vice-captain over the years, it’s that Kyoutani is very perceptive when he wants to be.

“So what if it was?” Yahaba shrugs, and he finds that he doesn’t care either way if Kyoutani does know. “If I want a hot guy to jack me off in a hot tub that will be emptied the next day anyway, then who gives a shit?”

He laughs out loud when Kyoutani stops in his tracks and stares while Yahaba doesn’t even break stride.

However, he knows that his secret is safe because, for all Kyoutani’s plethora of personality defects, being a gossip isn’t one of them. Even as his teammate tags along and demands to know who it is, Yahaba doesn't pay him any mind as he sends that text at last.

_Hey, gorgeous._

**Author's Note:**

> This challenge is turning me into complete trash. I am so gross and so, so very sorry.


End file.
